


Shadow

by RK_Anon (Rochelle_Templer)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Eventual fluff and smut, M/M, because I can't picture them never having a bump in their relationship, brief relationship issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-02-27 06:29:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13242444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rochelle_Templer/pseuds/RK_Anon
Summary: Sometimes, the darkest places are the ones that are close to the brightest lights....





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is sort of a sequel to the short story, "The Velvet Dark" from one of Big Finish's Short Trips compilations. Although reading that first won't be essential in order to read this.  
> Some parts of that story were problematic for me (including how Turlough was characterized at a couple points), but there was also a lot that I wish could have been explored more. Hence this fic.....

The Doctor stared at the controls in front of him and let out a long sigh. Ever since he had regenerated into his current incarnation, he had discovered many new sides to his personality which surprised him. Moods, tastes, and temperaments which had never occurred to him before now seemed completely natural to him. Overall, he was enjoying the change of pace, but there were a couple of aspects about himself that he wished had not been altered.

One of them being a flair for meting out punishments that would truly serve justice and act as a strong deterrent to others.

The Doctor sighed again. Once he had restored Turlough to his normal size and returned the nursing home residents to their proper place, the Doctor fully intended to come up with a suitable solution to dispose of the Master that reflected the suffering and death he had caused while not killing him. His mind was so absorbed in the task of crafting the right plan; he even avoided speaking to his companions more than what was absolutely necessary.

The problem was, every plan he came up with either was too brutal for the Doctor’s liking or felt too much like a juvenile prank which did not fit the monstrosity of what the Master did at all.

In the end, he decided on taking the Master and his TARDIS to Dylixis, a planet that had been deserted for more than a millennium after the civilization that had lived there died out. Maybe time spent in the quiet ruins would inspire the Master to reconsider his place in the universe. Especially since the Doctor knew that he would be there for a very, very long time.

After placing the Master’s inert body in the remains of the main gathering hall, the Doctor returned to Earth where his companions and his own TARDIS were waiting for him. Then he set the Fast Return switch into motion so that the Master’s TARDIS would rejoin him on that solitary world.

“You’re actually letting him have his TARDIS?” Tegan said after he had finished. “Are you mad? As soon as he snaps out of…of whatever has happened to him, he’ll be after you.”

“Oh I don’t think so,” the Doctor assured her. “At least, not for a long time.”

“All right,” Tegan said, crossing her arms over her chest. “What did you do?”

“Not much. I did set the coordinates for Dylixis, but I also did a little fiddling with his TARDIS’ Vortex compensators. Instead of traveling through both time and space simultaneously, it will only be able to hone in on location. Now, going from Earth and traveling at normal speed, it should take…hmmm….at least a hundred years to get there. Give or take a decade. And then, of course, he’ll be faced with the rather arduous task of making repairs which should delay him even more.”

“Good,” Tegan spat. “I hope he rots there.”

The Doctor nodded, making sure to keep his own feelings about this to himself. He couldn’t really blame Tegan for what she felt about the Master. All she had seen was someone who killed her aunt and who tried to destroy her friends over and over again, crushing anyone who got in his way. She didn’t know any other side of him.

She never knew how very much alike he and the Master were at one time. Or how easy it would have been for him to go down a similar path as the Master. And the Doctor was determined to keep all of that a secret for the rest of his lives.

“Doctor,” Tegan said, the somber inflection breaking the Doctor’s reverie. “I, I’m sorry. For what happened back there. I hurt you and it was my fault that Turlough almost….”

The Doctor walked over and placed his hands on Tegan’s shoulders. “It’s all right, Tegan. None of it was your fault. The Master had had years to arrange things so that, no matter what we did, we would have fallen into his trap. If anyone is to blame, it’s me for going there and bringing the two of you with me. I should have gone alone.”

“Not a chance, Doctor,” Tegan insisted. “Don’t ever think for one second we’d let you face that psycho by yourself. Or that we wouldn’t want to be there for you if you really did lose a friend.”

The Doctor’s smile grew in size and sincerity. “Thank you, Tegan,” he said softly, giving her shoulders a light squeeze. He was still a bit concerned about her wellbeing after the Master’s possession of her mind. She’d already suffered enough because of the Mara. He made a mental note to monitor how well she slept for the next few days.

“Doctor, are you sure that Turlough’s all right?” Tegan asked in that same concerned tone.

The Doctor’s hands slipped off Tegan’s shoulders and he turned back toward the console. “He’s fine, Tegan. I checked his vitals before I took the Master to Dylixis. He has some vertigo which is to be expected after such a radical alteration in his size, but that should pass in a day or less. Apart from that, there were only minor injuries.”

Minor injuries?” Tegan echoed. “Doctor, the Master used that tissue shrinking thingie on him and then shook him around in that tin box like a pair of dice.”

“He probably has some bruising, but there was nothing broken, I made….”

“Bruising? Rabbits, Doctor, he could have been killed.”

“But he wasn’t and that is what’s important,” the Doctor said with a harsher tone than he had intended. “He just needs some rest…which he will get. I’ve already set the coordinates for Tyna Six which is a planet of beaches and tourist resorts. Perhaps one of the most stress free places in the galaxy.”

“Yeah, we’ve heard that before,” Tegan said.

“And once we land, we’ll all stay on the TARDIS for a day until Turlough is up and around again,” the Doctor added.

“All right,” Tegan said, still wary. “But I still say that we should keep an eye on him for a while. Maybe you didn’t notice it, but he’s been acting weird ever since we got him back to normal. Weird for him even. And I don’t think he’s as sorted out as you seem to think he is.”

Tegan turned and began to walk out of the room. Just before entering the corridor, she paused. “He needs you right now, Doctor. And maybe you should be thinking about how much you need him.”

The Doctor blinked in surprise as he watched her leave. How much did she know about his relationship with Turlough? He had thought that it had been kept discreet, and yet, once in a while, Tegan would say something which indicated that she knew the two of them had something more than the usual Doctor and companion relationship. It wasn’t something the Doctor cared to flaunt, but he wouldn’t lie to her if she asked him about it directly. Something she never did for reasons that remained mysterious to him.

He leaned forward, staring at the central column as it moved up and down in its familiar, comforting rhythm. The ugly truth was, he’d been trying to avoid thinking too much about Turlough and the guilt from that was gnawing at him. Guilt over what he had allowed the Master to do to Turlough. Guilt that he hadn’t really taken care of him since they’d escaped the Master’s trap.

Guilt that he was still protecting his own feelings rather than doing what was best for Turlough.

The Doctor closed his eyes, immediately regretting doing so. In his mind, he kept seeing the moment when the Master used his TCE on Turlough over and over again. And every time it replayed in his mind there was that rush of fear, anger and wrenching sorrow.

Then nothing. He was empty. Broken.

The Doctor swallowed hard and reopened his eyes. That moment was sure to haunt his dreams for many lifetimes to come. When he saw Turlough’s miniaturized form on the ground, the Doctor’s hearts had shattered. It wasn’t until he watched the Master pick up the body and Turlough began to stir that he could feel his hearts beat again.

Nothing that happened after that, not even the indescribable agony he had felt when the Master tried to extract one of his regenerations, could begin to compare with the horror of that moment. The horror of losing yet another person who was dear to him.

The column blinked and sank down as a soft ‘ping’ echoed throughout the room. They had landed. It was immensely tempting to take a quick walk outside just so he could avoid what he needed to do for a little while longer.

No, Tegan was right. Turlough needed someone to attend to him right now. It wasn’t something the Doctor was entirely comfortable with doing, but he loved Turlough too much to only stick with what was comfortable and easy.

Decision made, he strolled out of the console room and toward Turlough’s bedroom door. He hesitated for one more minute before finally convincing himself to knock.

“Come in,” called out the voice from behind the door. The Doctor entered to find Turlough sitting up in bed, a book from the TARDIS library on his lap.

“I’m sorry. Were you reading? I could….”

“No, not really,” Turlough sighed. He tossed the book onto the desk across from the bed and started at the Doctor with an inscrutable expression. “I take it he’s gone now.”

The Doctor pulled up a chair to sit next to the bed. “Yes.”

“You didn’t kill him?”

“No. I took him somewhere far away. And sent his TARDIS back on a very slow return journey. It will be at least a century before he can go anywhere.”

Turlough snorted. “What’s a century to him? Aren’t you the one who’s always saying that time is relative? A century to him could only be a few moments for us depending on where we land next.”

The Doctor’s head drooped. He should have known that his decision regarding the Master would not bring as much comfort to Turlough as it did Tegan. Tegan was practical and adaptive, but she still tended to fall back on thinking of time in limited, linear terms. Turlough, on the other hand, had a mind that could fully grasp and reason with the concept of time being more like a web with causality rarely running in only one direction.

It was something the Doctor admired and appreciated in Turlough most of the time, but it wasn’t helpful right now.

“I understand your anger, but….”

“Do you?” Turlough interjected, his tone cool and cutting. “You understand how I felt when he tried to kill me? How I felt while he treated me like a toy?”

The Doctor steeled himself as he raised his head to look Turlough in the eye. “Yes, I do. You’re not the only one he hurt, Turlough.”

“Then why did you let him go?” Turlough shot back. “If you were squeamish about killing him, you could have left him to the Time Lords.”

“That could have ended up being the same as killing him,” the Doctor replied. “If the Time Lords had found out about what he was doing on Earth…about what his ambitions were…they might have decided that simple exile was an indulgence they could no longer afford.”

The Doctor sat up straighter in his chair. “But that’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? To kill him?”

“Yes,” Turlough said with a venom the Doctor had never heard in his voice before. “Tegan told me about him. About the evil things he’s done. Why would you let someone like that go on his merry way? He’ll just hurt more people.”

“He might not. There’s always a chance that….”

“That what? That he’ll change. I don’t believe it. People like that…there is no changing them. All they can do is destroy.”

“People can change,” the Doctor insisted. “After all, you…well….” He made a vague gesture at Turlough with his hand, confident that the implication would be clear to him.

Unfortunately, it did not have the effect the Doctor had hoped for. Turlough’s mouth pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowing.

“Is that how you see me, Doctor?” Turlough said, his voice cold and guarded. “Am I your latest project to fix? Another evil being who you stop with the power of love? Is that why you…?”

It took the Doctor a few seconds to catch on to the meaning behind Turlough’s words, his eyes widening in dismay once he did.

“No Turlough. My being with you is not like that at all. I was only pointing out the similarity….”

The Doctor paused, his eyes slowly closing and opening as he tried to sort his thoughts. What had been given as an example of personal growth overcoming bad situations had been taken as an accusation of essential character, and he was floundering to find the right way to convey how he felt.

Turlough’s eyes creased into slits. “Similarity?” he sneered. “Is that what it is? Tell me, Doctor, when you look at me, do you think of him? Is it his face that you see when I touch you? He’s a Time Lord like you, isn’t he? Did he have a face like mine once? Is that why you let me stay? Why you were willing to…?”

Turlough turned his face to the wall while the Doctor’s expression fell. This conversation was spiraling out of control and he wasn’t sure how to salvage it.

The Doctor reached over and held one of Turlough’s hands. “Try to understand. He wasn’t always like this. There was a time when he was sane and he was just….” He picked Turlough’s hand up and caressed it. “I should have protected you and I failed. And I am so sorry that he hurt you.”

“But not sorry enough to make sure he can’t do it again,” Turlough said. He finally looked over at him, his eyes impassive. “And you never did dispute my other point, did you? About why you were willing to invite me into your bed after what I had done?”

The Doctor gaped at Turlough, the hurt plain on his face, but Turlough was having none of it. He pulled his hand away and laid down, rolling over to face the wall.

“I’m really rather tired, Doctor. I think I’d like to sleep now.”

“I could stay,” the Doctor offered, hopeful. “Perhaps I could join you. Not for any sort of activity, mind you. You do need your rest. We could just….”

“I don’t think so,” Turlough interrupted. “I plan on getting to sleep as soon as possible…and it would be easier if I was alone.”

“All right,” the Doctor said, dejection lacing his tone. “We’ve landed on a leisure planet and I thought we’d stay here for a while. So you can recover. If there’s anything you need, I…well, we’ll see how things go over the next day.”

The Doctor stood and trudged over to the door. He took one last regretful look at Turlough before leaving the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Almost a day and a half later, Turlough was alone in a room again.

The room was much larger this time with windows that opened up a view of an ocean that sparkled golden in the setting sun. It was a very comfortable room with plush furnishings, a private spring bath and plenty of other little extras to make the guests happy. It was the sort of luxury that Turlough had grown up in before the chaos that had overthrown the political regime that had controlled Trion for centuries.

None of it was what he wanted though. None of it could ease the emptiness he felt inside.

* * *

 

After the Doctor had left his room, Turlough spent an entire day in bed, trying to relax and recover from his ordeal. He managed to get some sleep, but it was troubled by nightmares so it did little to help him feel rested.

Once he was able to get out of bed and stand without any more vertigo, Turlough figured it was time to stop lying around and do something. They had landed on Tyna Six hours ago, less than half a mile from the largest resort on the planet. Tegan had stopped by to tell him that she was staying there for a few days and that the Doctor had arranged rooms for both of them. Apparently, the Doctor had already been for a walk around the resort, but had decided forgo staying there and chose to stick with fiddling with the TARDIS.

Normally, Turlough was more inclined to stay close to the Doctor and work alongside him rather than take a hint from Tegan, but after the argument they had, he figured it would be best to continue giving each other space.

Deciding that he wanted to blend in rather than be noticed, Turlough changed out of his usual school uniform and into a light, long sleeved sky-blue shirt and light tan cargo shorts with brown sandals. As he changed, he noticed that the bruises on his body were vivid greens and purples on his torso and limbs. He still felt sore when he moved around, but the pain wasn’t enough to stop him from wanting to leave the TARDIS for a while.

Once he got outside, Turlough soon realized why this place was a popular tourist attraction. There were plenty of soft, sandy beaches, plenty of clear waters to swim in and plenty of easy going people who were eager for a good time. Not wanting to sunbathe, swim, or mingle, Turlough took off for a walk along one of the rockier shorelines that were less appealing to the fun-seeking tourists.

As he walked, Turlough dwelled on the last conversation he had had with the Doctor. He was still angry, frustrated and confused by the Doctor’s actions regarding the Master. Why would he let the Master go so easily after what he did? Wasn’t the whole point to so many of their adventures to stop some evil entity and make sure it never bothered anyone again? Why take such half-hearted measures to stop the Master? If anyone deserved to be stopped permanently, it was him. Especially after what he had done this last time.

After what Turlough had endured from him.

After what he had done to the Doctor.

Turlough stopped walking and sat down in the shade of a large tree that overlooked a craggy stretch of beach. What the Master had done to him, shrinking him down and then terrorizing him, was enough to give Turlough a reason to kill him if he ever got the chance. The way he saw it, it would be self defense, not murder, to kill the Master before he could try something else. It would be disconcerting to act first, but Turlough was confident he could force himself to rationalize it.

However, what fueled his anger even more were the screams he had heard from the Doctor while he was trapped in that tin box. The sound had been deafening to his tiny ears, but more than that they had chilled him to his core. They were screams of horrific agony. Agony that the Master was inflicting on the Doctor just so he could steal one of his regenerations. At the time, Turlough had thought that the Doctor was dying and that those screams would be the last sounds he would ever hear from him.

Turlough clenched his hands tightly. Throughout the whole ordeal, there had been a tight coil of rage building inside him. Rage over being so scared and at the mercy of someone else yet again. Rage that the Master was killing the Doctor and he was unable to do a thing about it. Even now, Turlough was certain that, if he had been full size at the time, he would have killed the Master at his first opportunity no matter the risk.

And unlike other times when he felt ambivalent or regret over killing, Turlough knew he would have been pleased to destroy someone who was hurting the one person who he treasured in the entire universe.

However, it was also this resolve, this anger with the usual undercurrent of disgust and fear, which made Turlough question his relationship with the Doctor.

 The Doctor seemed to hold none of the animosity toward the Master that Turlough did. Despite what the Master had done to him and his companions. At first, Turlough couldn’t stop himself from selfishly wondering if he or Tegan meant so little to the Doctor. Perhaps they were expendable in comparison to the Master.

Turlough quickly discarded this idea though. He had seen the Doctor risk his life for his companions more than once. No, it wasn’t that they meant nothing to him. It was more like the Doctor valued all life, even one as corrupted as the Master. It was an essential part of the Doctor’s nature, of his goodness, that he went so far to avoid harming others.

The Doctor was good…a far better person than Turlough knew he could ever be…an understanding that went to the heart of Turlough’s anger and fear.

Anger that the Doctor had seen that ugly side of him again. The coward who would lash out at any one to save himself. The manipulator who only understood using and being used.

Fear that the Doctor would finally realize that he deserved far more than anything Turlough could give him. Loyalty that was always tainted by his selfishness. Love that was from a heart that was small and withered and had only just begun to grow strong again.

Turlough picked himself up and trudged back to his room at the resort. For so many years, it had been easier for him to push away the things he truly longed for rather than admit how much he craved them. Needs were a weakness. Wants could be controlled. It was better to never allow anyone to cross the line from Turlough wanting them in his life to his needing them in it.

With the Doctor…Turlough had certainly put up the best fight that he could. He had spent hours trying to convince himself that what he felt for the Doctor was fleeting, just a whim, an impulse he could indulge or ignore. A couple of times, he’d even gone as far as saying or doing something he knew the Doctor would disapprove of…just to prove to himself how the Doctor could never feel anything but generalized concern or even pity for him.

None of it had worked though. Any illusions Turlough had that it ever would were erased that first night after the Doctor had thwarted the Eternals from receiving Enlightenment and had freed him from the Black Guardian. That night, Turlough finally knew release after years of fear, anger and punishment and it had overwhelmed him.

That night, the Doctor had been there.

A sofa had mysteriously appeared in the console room and the Doctor had spent the whole night with him there, holding Turlough close to him while they watched the lights flicker and move along the control panels. No words had been spoken, but that didn’t matter because what needed to be said had been said already. They were just two souls who had been cast out in exile from their own people. Two people who understood loneliness and loss and who could find comfort with each other.

That night, Turlough finally stopped resisting the love he felt for the Doctor. A love that was unfamiliar and scary and yet made Turlough feel more alive than he had felt since…since ever, perhaps.

Which made it even more frightening. Because Turlough was always aware of what its loss would do to him.

* * *

 

Back at the resort, Turlough had kicked off his sandals and had his dinner delivered to his room. He ate without enjoying it and had spent the rest of the time staring out the windows, gazing at the vast shimmering ocean.

By now, his anger and frustration at the Doctor had dissipated. In its place was sadness, the kind that could quietly thin every other emotion until Turlough felt little more than hollow. He wished the Doctor was here with him. He ached for him. But he also knew that he had pushed at the Doctor hard…maybe too hard this time. There was a possibility that this would be the “last straw” as he had heard it called on Earth. That the Doctor would decide he’d had enough of such a problematic companion and lover.

A knock at the door startled Turlough. His ire flared up at the reminder of how frayed his nerves had become.

“I do not wish to be disturbed,” he said, his raised voice befitting an Imperial of Trion. “You can take the dishes away tomorrow.”

“Turlough. It’s me.”

Turlough’s heart quaked as he walked over to the door and opened it. In the hallway stood the Doctor.

“Turlough,” he said softly. “I think we should talk.”


	3. Chapter 3

Turlough nodded and held the door open wider, moving aside so the Doctor could walk in. He was fairly certain there was some kind of bitter irony in how, now that the Doctor was here, he had no idea how he should think or feel about it.

He went back near the window and sat against the wide sill while letting the Doctor shut the door behind him and walk further in.

The Doctor had shed his usual coat and cricketer sweater, opting instead for a vest with an elaborate floral design over his white shirt with his stripped pants. It could almost blend in with what everyone else at the resort was wearing if it weren’t for those bright red question marks on his collar and his braces.

“Turlough, I….” The Doctor paused and began pacing back and forth in front of him. Whatever the Doctor had planned on saying, it must be awkward for him to act this way. Or maybe painful.  Thus, Turlough figured it was probably just as well that he didn’t feel like helping the conversation along.

Instead, he would wait in silent dread of whatever the Doctor was attempting to tell him.

The Doctor stopped pacing and moved to stand closer to him. “Turlough, when I ask people to come with me on my travels, I don’t do it in an attempt to replace anyone who came before. My friends, my companions…my lovers…they come and go and my time with them is precious. But none of them could ever be replaced.”

He reached over and clasped one of Turlough’s hands in both of his own. “When I look at you, I only see you, Vislor Turlough. Not him. Never him. You are nothing like him and could never be anything like him. Not in any sense.”

Turlough looked down at the Doctor’s hands and then back up at his face. He could tell that the Doctor meant every word he said. That he believed it wholeheartedly. 

_“…they come and go and my time with them is precious….”_

Turlough swallowed hard. How many companions had come and gone for the Doctor? How many times had he allowed himself the comfort of an intimate relationship while always knowing that it would end, must end, and he would be the one left alone?

Except…it didn’t end. Not for the Doctor.

Turlough moved closer to him, letting the Doctor envelop him in his arms. One of the reasons he had fallen in love with him was because of the Doctor’s capacity to love. A patient and steadfast love that could stretch and hold anything in the universe. It could always hold even more care, more compassion and yet remain as strong as ever.

A love like that…it couldn’t break so easily. Not even in the face of evil. Or when that evil wore the face of someone the Doctor had loved. No, the Doctor couldn’t kill the Master. That was not who he was. It wasn’t how he loved.

It wasn’t the person Turlough had allowed into his heart.

Turlough rested his head against the Doctor’s shoulder, returning the embrace. This was the balm he’d needed over the last day. Being together, open and yet secure. The way the Doctor tightened his grip on him told Turlough that it was the same for him as well.

The Doctor moved his hand, pressing against one of Turlough’s bruises and causing him to groan. He immediately stopped and stepped back so he could get a closer look at Turlough.

“It’s nothing,” Turlough said, annoyed at the interruption. “Just somewhat sore still.”

“Then perhaps we should take advantage of that spring bath you have in your room,” the Doctor smiled at him. “Just the thing for minor aches and pains. Go ahead and get in. I’ll make all the adjustments.”

Turlough chuckled and stripped while the Doctor crouched down next to a control panel and studied it intently. He eased himself into the lukewarm water and watched the Doctor work. It wasn’t long until the water warmed and was circulated gently around him. He let out a sigh of contentment as the heat and movement relaxed him.

“Hmmm, very interesting,” the Doctor said. “You know you can actually set these controls not just by absolute temperatures, but also by species-preferred settings? I wonder how it stores and classifies the data to….”

“Doctor, am I supposed to enjoy this advantage on my own?” Turlough smirked at him. “Or are you going to stop fussing with that panel and join me?”

The Doctor looked over at him with a grin of his own. “Impertinent,” he said as he took off his vest and lowered his braces. Turlough responded by flicking a few drops of water at him before settling in to watch the Doctor disrobe and slide into the bath as well.

As soon as he was in, the Doctor slid over and wrapped one arm around Turlough’s waist while tenderly cupping his jaw and chin with the other hand. He lightly traced a finger along the corner of Turlough’s mouth before kissing him. Turlough responded by grabbing him and giving a heated kiss of his own, desperate for reassurance and affection. Soon that morphed into a string of hungry kisses which were emphasized by Turlough pawing at him. The Doctor drew him close and leaned against the wall of the bath.

“Easy, Turlough, easy,” the Doctor murmured between kisses. “I’m here. Just relax.”

Turlough closed his eyes and leaned back into welcoming arms. He rested against the Doctor’s chest, his face pressed into the crook of the Doctor’s neck. He sighed as he felt the Doctor gently stroke his back. The soft, caring touch was even more intimate to Turlough than the kisses had been. He felt himself drifting away in a calm of warmth. Of skin on skin contact with twin heartbeats lulling him into serenity.

Some time later, Turlough blinked hard, consciousness returning when he didn’t even realize he had been away. He slowly opened his eyes and realized he was still in the bath, still being held by the Doctor who was softly singing in his ear in a sweet, musical language he didn’t recognize.

Turlough yawned and stretched, his limbs straight and taunt like a cat. He blinked a few more times and sat up to see the Doctor smiling at him.

“Was I asleep long?”

“Only a short while. You seem tired. Were you not able to rest yesterday?”

Turlough shrugged. “I slept, but I don’t think I rested.” He let his head droop and buried his face against the Doctor’s neck for a full minute before sitting up again. He didn’t want to talk about why. About how, every time he closed his eyes, he was back in a world of screaming and pain. Right now, he wanted to think about anything else.

“Shall we get out now?”

“If you want to,” the Doctor demurred. “Are you sure you’re feeling better? I’m in no hurry to move.”

Turlough grinned. “But I am.” He punctuated this point by crashing his lips against the Doctor’s, his tongue darting in to taste the Doctor’s mouth. He moaned as he slid his hands up and down the Doctor’s back, eventually letting them wander down to his thighs.

The Doctor finally broke the kiss, breathing hard. “All right,” he said, placing a hand on Turlough’s face. He placed another light peck onto the bridge of Turlough’s nose before letting go and standing up.

Turlough watched him fetch some towels and made a point of leering at him, waiting until the Doctor gave him a wry smile before laughing and getting out as well.

As soon as he was out, the Doctor wrapped a towel around him, carefully drying him off while giving him the occasional kiss on the cheek. Chaste, sweet gestures meant as affection rather than lust. Turlough appreciated them even though he was also growing impatient with how the Doctor was slowing things down rather than matching his pace.

Suddenly, the Doctor stopped drying him, his eyes fixed on Turlough. His eyes furrowed as he watched the Doctor’s smile fall away, his eyes growing dark. Then he looked down and realized what the Doctor was staring at: livid bruises and welts that were much more visible now that he was out of the water.

Sadness dimmed the Doctor’s eyes and he reached out and ghosted his fingers along several of them.  Tension tightened Turlough’s insides as he reached for the Doctor’s hand. The Doctor stopped touching them, but he did not look up at his face. Instead he folded his arms around Turlough again, cradling him gently but firmly against him.

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor murmured into his ear. “Turlough, I….”

“Don’t,” Turlough said, wrapping his arms around him. “It wasn’t your fault.”

The Doctor let out a shuddering breath, one hand moving up to stroke Turlough’s hair. Up until that moment, Turlough had thought that the Doctor had just been saddened that an old friend had tried to kill him again and worried as he always was about the safety of his companions. It didn’t occur to him that the Doctor’s sorrows could be running deeper than that.

Turlough moved his head, his eyes closed, so he could press his forehead against the Doctor’s.

_‘Doctor…it’s not your fault…’_

_‘He tricked you…he wanted to hurt you by hurting me…to make you suffer the way he does….’_

_‘You don’t deserve it…never deserve it…’_

_“Turlough….”_

_‘….I love you….’_

Turlough’s gut clenched. It was both the hardest and the easiest thing to say to the Doctor. But he knew it was the one of the few honest things he could feel good about saying because it was such a simple truth. He loved the Doctor. Deeply and completely. All the noble, wise, compassion parts of him right alongside the mad, grumpy, impatient parts of him.

The Doctor was silent, but Turlough didn’t care. The emotions flowed both ways whenever the Doctor entered his mind. He could feel the love he had for the Doctor being mirrored back to him. A smile appeared on Turlough’s lips and he could sense that it had come back to the Doctor’s face as well.

There was another light kiss to the forehead as the connection was broken. “Go lie on the bed,” the Doctor told him.

Turlough nodded and complied. He stretched out onto the sheets and then slid under them and waited. The Doctor soon joined him, a couple of glass jars in his hands.

“I thought I might find these in a place like this,” the Doctor said.

Turlough rolled onto his side and propped himself up with an elbow. “Why? What are they?”

“Oh, just some oils,” the Doctor replied. “With some very…pleasurable proprieties.”

“Doctor, I’m starting to think there’s something you’re not telling me about this room,” Turlough said with a growing smirk.

“Whatever do you mean, Turlough?”

The crack in the Doctor’s voice was all the proof he needed for his assumptions. “This isn’t just a ‘luxury suite’, is it Doctor? You…this is a room meant for couples, isn’t it?”

The Doctor’s face turned a very interesting shade of red as Turlough laughed. Then the Doctor tried to look grumpy which made Turlough snicker even more.

“I thought it would be relaxing for you. They seemed like the nicest and most spacious rooms.”

“And of course, there was nothing else on your mind when you chose it. Is that what you’re telling me, Doctor?”

The shade of red on the Doctor’s face grew deeper and Turlough laughed again. He knew he could keep this going for a while, but right now, annoyed and grumpy were not the moods he wanted the Doctor to be in.

Turlough sidled over to him, kissing his cheek and then his neck. The Doctor let out a sigh and embraced him, lying down so that Turlough was on top of him. Once again, Turlough let his hands wander, stroking and pressing every inch of the Doctor’s flesh that he could take hold of. Watching as the Doctor’s own ardor grew, the blue in his eyes surrendering to the black.

They stayed that way for a couple of minutes before the Doctor rolled him over. He sat up and stared down at Turlough under him. Then he opened one of the jars and poured a small amount of the oil onto his hands. He rubbed them together, making a thin coating before placing his hands onto Turlough’s torso. Turlough moaned and breathed deep. The Doctor’s hands were warmed by the oil and there was a spicy floral scent rising up.

Then the Doctor gently massaged him. The warmth spread everywhere the Doctor touched, penetrating beyond the surface of the skin and soothing the aches in his bruises. The Doctor eased Turlough onto his stomach and continued with his back and gradually moved down to his hips. By the end of it, Turlough was moaning softly. His entire body felt as if it was being caressed by the Doctor’s hands.

He turned over so he could look up at the Doctor’s face and guide him down to lay on top of him. They shared a few kisses before the Doctor moved down again, kissing along Turlough’s chest and onto his stomach. At first, the kisses almost felt apologetic to Turlough. When he felt the Doctor’s lips brush across another bruise, it seemed like remorse mixed with regard.

But eventually, a much softer, more reverent look appeared in the Doctor’s eyes as he kissed. It wasn’t an act of contrition anymore. It was a gesture of passion, of breathing in every detail, every nuance of him.

Turlough pulled at the Doctor’s arms, wanting to taste his mouth again. He was only satisfied with that for a moment until a much more erotic need spread throughout his body. He reached down and guided the Doctor’s hands there as well, signaling his desire. He was pleased to discover the Doctor had responded to his passion as well.

The Doctor sat up and rolled Turlough over again. Turlough could hear the sound of another jar opening and felt a cool, watery gel touch him, preparing him for what was to come. Turlough bucked his hips against the Doctor’s fingers, urgent and even needier than he was seconds ago. Only a couple more agonizing moments later, he felt the Doctor enter him.

Turlough groaned, his hips immediately trying to set a rhythm to speed up the Doctor’s movements. But the Doctor was having none of it. He held Turlough securely, moving slowly and yet thoroughly. The languid pace soon had Turlough moaning and squirming, his pleasure stripping away his reason.

“Please,” he gasped out while he still could form words. “Need you…need to see you….”

The Doctor bent down and kissed the back of his neck and then pulled out so he could turn Turlough over. Turlough hitched his legs up so the Doctor could go back to thrusting into him like before. The oils the Doctor had used had given lubrication, but had also made every nerve under Turlough’s skin sensitive to every passionate touch.

He reached up and ran his hands along the sides of the Doctor’s face until it faded into a blur of light and gold. The Doctor’s mind was spilling into his again, blending his sensations into Turlough’s. Soon, Turlough couldn’t even tell which one of them was thrusting into the other one anymore. Nor could he care. All he knew was a pleasure that was swirling together and overwhelming him.

Pleasure building and spreading from searing kisses, strong thrusts and hot breaths panting onto each other’s faces.

Touching, caressing, blurring, melding, becoming one.

There was a blinding white flash and then it was over. It took Turlough several moments to come back to his senses, and when he did, it was to the Doctor holding him again, stroking his cheeks and kissing his temples. Once he got his breath back, he opened his eyes, still heavy lidded and smiled at the face lying in front of him.

Turlough slung his arms around the Doctor and cuddled up to him. The Doctor laid down onto his back and let Turlough rest partially on him, pulling the blankets up to cover them. The sun had almost set, leaving their room in a filled with a faint lavender glow of the moons coming out.

“Could we…could we stay here?” Turlough mumbled, his fingers drawing idle circles on the Doctor’s chest. “Just for a little while.” 

The Doctor let out a long breath and kissed the top of his head. “Why not? We could do with a holiday.”

Turlough smiled and was about to leave it at that when one more thought troubled him. “Doctor…I’m sorry. What I said before…I didn’t mean….”

“I know,” the Doctor whispered. “I know you didn’t. And I forgive you.” He pulled Turlough closer to him, his hold on him protective. “Rest now.”

Turlough snuggled into him, his eyes closing. Sometimes, it still felt strange to remain in bed and cuddle after sex, but moments like this were a good reminder of why he had warmed to the idea.

Originally, he was hoping for a dreamless sleep that night. Something free of the nightmares that haunted him. Something he would have to give into eventually no matter what how disturbed his mind would become.

Now, Turlough welcomed slumber and dreams of the arms that held him and the warmth the two of them shared.


End file.
